Promises Broken
by Angelstearz
Summary: THE FINAL CHAPTER IS NOW UP!
1. Hell

A.N.: Sorry for ya'll who don't like "Mary-Sues" cause the main character in this story is one. PLEASE READ AND REVIEW!!!  
  
Boston, Mass.  
  
(John is 16)  
  
Makayla DeAngelo could hear her father coming up the stairs and immediately tensed up. She could tell just by his footsteps that he was angry. She stood up quickly as her bedroom door flew open. "Makayla! Get your lazy ass over here now!" Makayla walked swiftly over to her father, who towered over her. His face was dark, full of anger. "I thought I asked you to clean this room!"   
  
She shrunk away from him, not answering because that usually just made him angrier. He grabbed her by the arm and the fists started to land on her. She didn't know how long this lasted, but it must have been awhile because she heard the doorbell chiming downstairs.   
  
It was probably Patrick O' Doyle, Makayla's dad's business partner, and she knew he wasn't supposed to be here until 6 o'clock.   
  
He stood up, leaving his 7-year old daughter's bruised and bloodied body on the floor. "I don't want to hear a sound out of this room, do you understand me?" Makayla nodded and pulled herself into a sitting position.   
  
Soon the maid would come and help her clean up. They never did anything, never tried to stop him. They were too scared to go against him.   
  
But no one came.   
  
Makayla figured that her father had told them to leave her be. She pulled herself up and staggered into the bathroom. She turned the dials on the bathtub so she could run a warm bath to soak in. After the tub was filled she undressed and climbed in. She sat there for almost an hour before she got out.   
  
She pulled a nightshirt on and went to bed. She lay there, in too much pain to sleep but too scared to ask for something. This happened a lot in her house. Her daddy would get mad and then he would hurt her. She didn't know why, she just knew that it was what happened.   
  
She slowly got out of bed, knowing she wouldn't be sleeping in her bed that night and she knew her father wouldn't be checking on her. He never did after a beating like this.   
  
She put on some loose clothes and went to her window. She set her rope ladder out and climbed down. She walked for half an hour to go to the only place she felt safe.   
  
To the only person who would protect her.   
  
She painfully climbed a tree and stepped onto his balcony, knocking on his door. She saw the light come on and the door came open to reveal a half-asleep teenager. "Makayla? What are you doing here?"   
  
She didn't answer him and when he tried to put his hand on her shoulder, she flinched.   
  
He straightened, understanding what had happened. "Come in." She walked into his room and sat in the chair. He went into his adjoining bathroom and pulled some pain medicine out. There was silence between the two before Makayla spoke up. "John?" John looked at the frail girl, "What?"  
  
"He's not supposed to do this, is he?"   
  
"No, Makayla, he's not." She shook her head, not understanding, "Then why does he?"   
  
John sat next to her and pulled her to him. "I don't know, Kay, I don't know. But I'll promise you this." She looked up at the older boy. "I promise I won't let him hurt you anymore. Ever."   
  
She nodded, and started to cry as he picked her up and tucked her in his bed. She fell asleep as peacefully as she could, her tiny hand tightly clutching his.  
  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _  
  
13 Years Later (Atlanta)  
  
Makayla sighed as she set the huge box she was carrying onto the floor. She walked over to the window that overlooked the street. It wasn't a great view but it was better than home.   
  
She started to unpack her things and soon came to a picture that she quickly put underneath a bunch of junk she was planning to throw away.   
  
She was surprised to hear a knock at her door and was even more surprised at who it was. She had expected a neighbor, welcoming her, but instead it was someone she didn't really want to see.   
  
"What do you want?" She asked flatly.   
  
Patrick O' Doyle held his hands up in defense, "I was just coming to give you a housewarming gift." She crossed her arms and cocked an eyebrow at him, "Well?"   
  
"Oh, yeah. I left it at home." He pushed his way into her apartment and turned to look at her, "This is really nice."  
  
"Look, I'm tired and I want you to leave. So just tell me what the hell you want."  
  
"My son." Makayla let out an exasperated sigh, "I'll tell you the same thing I have been telling you for the past twelve years. I don't know where he is. I don't know why he left. I was just as surprised as you. And I was 7 years old!"  
  
"No, I know where he is. He's here......in Atlanta. Goes by the name Grant now," Makayla looked at him, confused at what he wanted if he didn't want the location of John.   
  
"I was wondering if you would.......keep an eye on him. Let me know what he's doing." She wasn't surprised at his suggestion; "You want me to spy on him?"   
  
He conceded, "If you want to call it that." She stood in front of him, not letting him see the shock of his earlier statement, and started to push him out of her apartment, "Look, my father's dead. I'm NOT him and I never will be. I don't want to be. So, no, okay? Unlike him, I want nothing to do with you. Or your family."   
  
She slammed the door shut in his face and sagged against it.   
  
He was here.   
  
She had moved, in a sense, to get away form him and he was here.   
  
Of all places.   
  
She shook her head, as a way to let it go for now. She looked at the clock and decided to go to bed early. She needed to unpack tomorrow. She took a quick shower and lay down.   
  
She lay there for hours, not sleeping at all. Just thinking about the fact that he was out there. Somewhere. It was killing her. So when 6:00 a.m. rolled around, she bolted out of the bed and to the nearest station with a phone book.   
  
When she got there she looked up his name and sure enough, he was there. She thought about calling or going there but decided not to.   
  
She went back home and started to unpack. She sat there all day, unpacking things but not really paying attention or she would have caught that she had put her bathroom things in the kitchen.   
  
She hadn't realized how long she had worked until she noticed she was completely unpacked and it was almost 11:00 p.m.   
  
She stood up and stretched. She grabbed her keys, purse, and jacket and headed out the door. She looked at the piece of paper in her car, with his address on it.   
  
She found herself navigating her way to his place.   
  
She sat in front of the building for god knows how long before getting out. She slowly walked up the stairs and to his apartment door. She knocked and when he answered she was speechless. He was gorgeous.   
  
And he didn't recognize her. *Figures.*   
  
"Can I help you?" She was flustered, knowing she shouldn't be there, "Oh, I'm sorry. I have the wrong apartment." He smiled at her and she almost collapsed, "That's fine. Have a nice night." She smiled back weakly, "You too."   
  
When he closed the door she collapsed against the wall. She stood up before the tears came and walked downstairs. She got into her car and just sat there.   
  
He was fine.   
  
He probably hadn't even thought about her all these years.   
  
And that hurt.   
  
That he was happy. Living a normal life, while her's was the life from hell.   
  
She knew she should be happy for him but she couldn't. She just couldn't.  
  
A.N.: For those who have not figured it out, this is just a re-post of my story. I separated the paragraphs and stuff to make it easier to read. : ) 


	2. Familiar Faces

John was sitting at his desk, staring into space, when Sam sat in his line of view. "Earth to John." He blinked and looked up at her, "Sorry. Something you needed?"  
  
"You okay, John?" He sighed, "Yeah, fine."  
  
"You wanna talk about it?" He shook his head, "Nah."   
  
She gave him a speculative look, "You sure?" He nodded at her, "Okay. Oh, right. Bailey needs us in the Command Center in 5."   
  
He stood up and started to walk with her.   
  
"You'll talk to me if you need to?"   
  
He nodded again and took his seat at the table. Everyone else was already there. Bailey started to speak as soon as they were seated. Sam was mostly watching John and John was staring into space again. "Sam? You with me?"   
  
Sam looked up at Bailey and nodded. She watched him and Bailey started to speak again. John was still spacing out. Right before the meeting was adjourned Bailey called on John, "John?" He looked at Bailey and Bailey looked at him, "What?"   
  
Bailey didn't say anything just finished up the meeting. As John was about to leave, Bailey called out, "John? My office." John sighed exasperatedly. He went into Bailey's office and slammed the door behind him, "What do you want?"   
  
Bailey sat at his desk and gestured for John to take a seat. He didn't. "Look, I got a lot of work to do, so if we could just make this short?"  
  
"Sit down, John," John sat, "What's going on with you? Is it your father?"  
  
"Why do you always automatically assume that it's my father? And what makes you think anything is wrong with me? I'm doing perfectly fine, okay?"  
  
"John, your mind isn't here at work and it hasn't been for a few months now. What's going on? You can talk to me." John stood up quickly, "What if I don't want to talk? Everyone's offering to listen but I just DON'T want to talk, okay? It's nothing anyone can fix or make better so I just wish everyone would stop trying!" John jerked the door open and walked out, right past Sam. She turned to watch him go, then went into Bailey's office; "You wanted to see me?"   
  
"Yeah. I know you're close to John. I was just wondering if he had told you what's going on with him." Sam shook her head, "Sorry. I don't think anyone knows. You know what John's like. You practically have to wrench anything out of him and this is obviously something close to his heart because he's holding on pretty tight to it." Bailey nodded, "Keep an eye on him will you? And if you think it's interfering with his performance?"  
  
"I'll let you know."  
  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _  
  
John looked at the scotch bottle and noticed he had almost drunk it all. He downed his drink fast and poured the rest into his glass.   
  
He sat there for what seemed like hours before drinking the glassful. He then threw the bottle and shot glass across the room that shattered into a growing amount of broken liquor bottles.   
  
He didn't hear someone knock or hear that someone come into his apartment. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the headrest.   
  
When he opened them his eyes found the eyes of a young girl in an old weathered picture. "Who's that?" John looked behind him to see Sam standing over his shoulder.   
  
"Go 'way, Sam. You shouldn't be here." She just watched him, "Who is she, John? Is she your sister?"   
  
John snorted, "I don't even deserve to have someone ask that. Not after what I did to her." Sam sat on the couch next to his recliner and watched him.   
  
He turned his head in her direction, "She was the sweetest, most trusting girl I ever met."   
  
A silence lapsed between the two. Sam was hoping John would elaborate a little more but he didn't.   
  
"I mean it, Sam. Go 'way." She just watched him for a few more minutes,   
  
"Sam....GET. OUT."   
  
She stood up and made her way to the door. She turned back to him. "I'm here if you need me." There was no response from John; he just stared at the picture in his hand.   
  
She took another quick look around the apartment; at the broken glasses and alcohol bottles and shook her head. She quietly shut the door behind her.   
  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _  
  
Next Day  
  
John walked into the VCTF clutching his aching head. He went straight to his seat at the Command Center and sat down. Sam sat down across from him, "You okay?" He just stared at her.   
  
Nathan and George came in and sat down. "Oooh. Long night, John?" John didn't answer; he just did something completely unexpected. He flipped 'em off.   
  
They blinked their eyes, shocked. The reaction they had expected was not the one they had gotten. The duo took their seats, Nate next to John and George next to the computer.   
  
Nate looked at John, "You okay, man? We didn't mean anything by it." John just stared at the table in silence.   
  
Bailey came in and started the meeting. "We have a new case. This is a picture of the victim. Some hunters found her in Hales Woods early this morning. Grace is at the scene right now." George put up a picture of a young girl. "Some people high up want this solved. They want to know who killed her and fast. Let's go." They all stood up but Bailey stopped John, "Maybe you should stay here for this one."  
  
"Why?" Bailey set one hand on John's shoulder. "You haven't been focusing on work lately John. We can't afford to have this case messed up." John pushed Bailey's hand off, "I won't mess it up."   
  
He walked past Bailey and got into his car. He drove to the crime scene, a little angry at the fact that Bailey didn't think he could handle this. He got out and looked around the wooded area. He walked over and went under the yellow tape, flashing his badge at the cop standing guard. He kneeled next to the covered body and picked up the sheet.   
  
It had been a long time since a crime scene had nauseated him but this one did. The girl had been beaten to death and, for a second, John saw someone else's face.   
  
He shook his head and stood up. Sam was right next to him, "You all right?" He nodded and went back to his car.   
  
He leaned against the hood, rubbing the back of his neck. He watched as everyone talked/listened to Sam. He watched as Grace examined the body but John could already tell you the cause of death from experience.   
  
He saw Bailey looking at him and he turned away from his gaze.   
  
He got into his car drove around for a long time before heading back to the VCTF where everyone was bound to be waiting. He walked in and saw the meeting was thankfully over and everyone was at their respective desks.   
  
Sam saw him come in and poked her head out of her office, "John? Can I speak to you for a minute?"   
  
He rolled his eyes upward and then walked into her office. "Look, I just want to do my work, okay? I don't want to talk. You don't want to hear it. And there isn't anything anyone can do to help. So let me just go out to my desk, okay?"  
  
"Would you rather have this conversation with Bailey? Because if you don't start focusing in here," She started, tapping her forehead, " then you will be out of a job. Please. Talk to me."   
  
He looked at her hand covering his and then back at her. He took a seat on her couch. "Is it about that girl in the picture?" He glanced at her, stunned.   
  
He'd forgotten she'd seen the picture.   
  
He shook his head, "I just can't forget her. No matter how hard I try. I guess, in a sense, she's the reason I went into law enforcement. I wanted to protect her so much."  
  
"What happened?"   
  
John shook his head, "You know I actually saw her face on that girl's body?"   
  
He stood up and startled Sam, "I'm sorry, Sam. I just can't." He went to her door and opened it, "John." He turned to her, waiting, "I'm still here when you're ready."   
  
He stood there for a minute then walked out of her office and to his desk. He sat down and started to do some paperwork on their last case.   
  
Sam went to Bailey's office and closed the door behind her. Bailey was on the phone with his latest girlfriend. "Yeah, I gotta go. See you tonight." He hung up the phone, "John come in yet?" Sam nodded. "Good. I want to speak to him." He started to get up to call John in but Sam stopped him, "Not now, Bailey. I just spoke with John. All you will succeed in doing is making him angry. That crime scene shook him up. Just let him cool down before you bring him in here."  
  
  
  
"You spoke to him?" Sam nodded her head in reply, "Can you tell me what's going on?"   
  
  
  
"No. I can't, Bailey. This is just something he will have to work out on his own." 


	3. Reunions

John sat in the lab, his head in his hands. He had come there knowing that Grace was gone, as were the other pathologists. He was having daydreams and it was starting to get to him. 

He had been having nightmares about Makayla for almost a year now but this was the first time he had had a sort of 'nightmare' while he was awake. 

He didn't know what to do. He felt like he was going crazy. 

John opened his eyes and decided it was time for a vacation. Bailey was right, he wasn't focusing and he needed to find that focus again. He went into Bailey's office and saw he wasn't there. 

John went back to his desk. He picked up the phone and dialed Bailey's home number. When he received no answer he slammed the phone down and picked it back up, this time dialing Bailey's cell phone. 

He finally got an answer. "Bailey? Yeah I know it's late……you know I've been thinking. I think you're right, I need a vacation. I don't know…at least four days. All right. A week's good. Yeah. Bye." He hung up and grabbed his keys. He drove to his apartment and packed a few clothes and got back in his car to drive to his cabin. 

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

(Back to Makayla's POV)

When Makayla opened her eyes, she groaned. She had gone out drinking last night to forget John and had pretty much failed to forget but succeeded in getting pretty drunk though. 

She stumbled into her bathroom and turned the shower on. She stripped out of her clothes and climbed in. She stood there, leaning against the tile, and let the water just rain down on her aching muscles. But when she closed her eyes all she could see was his smiling face. 

She turned the water off and dried off. She pulled her robe on and started to dry her hair. She went into her bedroom and sat on the bed. She noticed something sticking out of a pile of papers. 

Makayla picked it up and visibly blanched. It was the last picture taken of her and John before he skipped town. She could feel the all too familiar anxiety building up inside and she stood up. She looked at the picture one last time before throwing it in the trash. She pulled on some jeans and a white tee shirt. She pulled her wet hair into a ponytail and grabbed her keys and purse on her way out of the apartment. 

She slammed the car door and put the keys in the ignition. She sat there, not really having anywhere to go. She started the car and pulled out of the parking lot, just driving. She drove around in the city for half the day and, after getting a tank of gas, drove out of the city. 

Just as it was nearing dusk, her car started to sputter and then just stopped. She got the flashlight she kept in the glove compartment, popped the hood, and got out of the car. 

She glanced around, self-consciously, at the rather secluded area she was stranded in. 

She looked at the engine and groaned. She wasn't a mechanic and she had no idea what she was looking at or for. She took a step back and kicked her tires a few times and started to let out small, frustrated screams. 

She heard a noise behind her and jumped. A man stepped out of the woods and held up his hands. "Sorry, I thought I heard someone out here. You need any help?" She swallowed and shook her head. "You sure? I mean, I'm no mechanic but maybe I could call one for you? My cabin's just up that hill." She shook her head again. 

He noticed her silence and came closer, "Are you okay?" She took a step back for each step he took towards her. 

He stopped and held up his hands again. He reached into his back pocket and got out his badge, "I'm not going to hurt you. I'm a Federal Agent. My name is John Grant." 

This must be one of Fate's cruel jokes that were so often played on her. She was stranded and her savior was a man she truly hated. 

She found herself leaning weakly against the car. He looked at her a little closer, "Do I know you? You look familiar." She finally found her voice again, "N-no. I think I'll be okay, I have my cell phone." She leaned back into the car and pulled it out only to see there was no service. 

He shrugged, "Bad thing about being in the woods. No service." Makayla watched John warily. He pointed his hand back up to the lighted cabin. "You want that phone now?" 

She closed her eyes, and took a calming breath before nodding. He turned and started to walk back up the hill before noticing she wasn't following, "You coming?" She swallowed hard and started to follow him. 

It was taking all of her strength not to run the other way. She needed to use the phone, then she would find a way to get out of waiting with him. She didn't think she could handle staying in the same room as him. 

They got to his cabin and Makayla noticed how beautiful it was. It actually made her remember a conversation she had had with him once.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

__

Six year old Makayla skipped happily ahead of her friend. She turned back to him and he laughed. 

She had gotten chocolate ice cream all over her clothes. She grinned a toothy grin back at him. She had just lost one of her front teeth and was very self-conscious about it.

He was just happy seeing her act like a child should act. He had thought she would like it out here. 

She plopped down next to the lake, on a blanket set out for the two of them. He sat next to her, "Having fun?" She nodded and grinned again. 

He smiled back at her. "John?" He looked over at her. "Can we do this every day? I mean, can't we just live out here?" She got up on her knees and started to bounce happily, "We could hunt for food and camp out in the woods and eventually, we could build a big log house. Where no grown-ups are allowed, 'cept you of course. Cause then they couldn't hurt no one. And you could take care of me-" 

John put a hand over her mouth, knowing he had to stop her, but hating himself for doing so, "Kay. You know we can't." He watched as she kind of deflated like a balloon with a hole in it.

He hated the fact that he couldn't do just what she wanted. "I will tell you this though. I promise you that I will build you a big HUGE log house and you could come visit me all the time, okay?" 

That seemed to perk her up a little, "You mean it?" He reached over and ruffled her hair, "I sure do." He almost fell over from the force of the hug she tackled him with.

He smiled and hugged her back.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Makayla sighed, 'A promise only half-broken by him.' It was definitely a change. She slowly walked up the stairs, admiring all of the work someone had put into this place. 

He turned back to her, "Phone's through here." He led her inside and to a living room. She picked up the phone and called for a tow truck while he went into the kitchen to pour himself a drink. 

She went the way he had gone to find him looking at a picture she couldn't see. He heard her come in and put the picture back on the table, "You reach someone?" She nodded, "I think I'll just wait by the car." 

"You really should just wait here. I wouldn't want something to happen to you," He gave her one of his charming smiles, "Cause then I'd feel bad." She raised an eyebrow at him. She thought it ironic to hear those words out of his mouth. And it was amazing; he still had no clue about her. Granted he hadn't seen her for thirteen years but she hadn't seen him either and she recognized him real well. She closed her eyes again and took another deep breath. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just find it ironic to hear those words out of your mouth." The words slipped out before she had had a chance to think about what she was saying. 

She winced and hit herself on the head, "Stupid." He looked at her, confused and stunned at the same time. "Excuse me?" 

She didn't say anything, just clenched her hands at her side and forced a smile, "Nothing." 

Just that one statement had brought all her feelings to the forefront again. He looked at her again, "What did you say your name was again?" She closed her eyes, "I didn't."

"Okay. What is your name?" She looked at her watch, "You know, I should go check on that tow truck. He should be here by now." She was on her way out when it hit him. 

Who she was. 

Where he had seen her. 

He couldn't speak, couldn't even breath. As she got closer to the door, he called out quietly, "Kay?" 

She froze. 

He remembered. 

She shook her head. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. Everything was okay as long as he didn't remember her. That was the plan. That was how she had worked it out in her head. That she'd be okay as long as he did not remember her. 

She slowly turned to him and raised her chin. "Grew up well, didn't I?" Her voice had taken on a cold edge to it. 

John let out the breath he hadn't known he was holding. "My god. I thought…….I thought I'd never see you again." Makayla looked him in the eye, "I wished for the same thing." He flinched. 

She sounded so bitter, so distant. "I have to go." 

He reached out to stop her, "Please don't." 

She pulled out of his reach, "Don't. Don't you dare. Just leave me the hell alone." 

She walked out of the cabin and practically ran back to her car. She waited for another half-hour before the tow truck showed up. She got in and waited for him to load her car. As they started to leave she saw John staring at her from the side of the road. 

She held his stare before she felt the tears and looked away from his face as she pushed them back. 

She couldn't think about him. It was too much for her. 

Too much to handle.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

(John's P.O.V)

He couldn't believe it. He had always dreamed of the day he would find Makayla but he never expected her to be so angry. 

He definitely didn't expect smiles and laughter but a part of him had hoped for it. He watched her get into the tow truck and as they drove away, he held her gaze. 

She broke it off and the truck disappeared down the road. John dazedly walked back up the hill to his cabin. He went into the kitchen and saw that old picture sitting on the table and flinched. 

He grabbed a full bottle of vodka from his liquor cabinet and started to pour himself a glass but changed his mind and started to drink straight from the bottle. He figured he might as well get drunk. 

He could hurt just as much that way too. 


	4. Unwanted Pity

Next Day

John woke with a pounding headache. He stumbled into his kitchen and started to drink a cup of coffee but spit it out when he realized it was from yesterday morning. 'Yesterday….' John groaned. 

He had to get back to Atlanta. He had to find her; he had to see her. 

He went back to his bedroom and threw a few things into his bag. He grabbed his keys and jogged out to his car. He drove the two hour long drive in kind of a stunned state. 

He had to find a way to make it up to her. 

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Back in Atlanta

John sighed as he saw the office building. He knew he might have to fight Bailey on coming back but he was ready. He walked in and everyone stopped what they were doing. Sam went up to him, "I thought you were on vacation."

"I was. But I'm back now. Is there a problem with that?" Sam shook her head and held her hands up in a surrendering motion. "Not with me. But you might have one with Bailey." 

"I kind of counted on that." John walked past Sam and put his stuff on his desk and over to George. "George, can you look up someone for me?" George looked up at John, startled. "Uh…sure. Who is it?"

"Her name is Makayla DeAngelo. She's somewhere in Atlanta. I hope." George nodded. Bailey came out of his office and became angry when he saw John. "John! My office, now!" John grinned, "Glad to know things haven't changed around here." Grace came into the Command Center and stood next to George. "You were only gone for two days. We managed to survive without you." John held his hand over his heart, "Why must you hurt me so?" Grace shrugged. 

John turned on his heel and walked into Bailey's office. "What's up?" Bailey motioned for him to sit, and he did. "What's up!? I thought you were taking a whole week off?" John shrugged, "I didn't need it. I found that two days was more than enough." 

"I should say so. You're almost like yourself." 

"Not quite…but I'm getting there. Just got one more thing to clear up. Are we done?" Bailey reluctantly nodded and waved him off. John walked out of Bailey's office and started to head for his desk when George called to him. He went over to George's computer. "You found her already?"

"Yeah. She tried to hide. Made a few false trails but it wasn't too hard." John grinned and clapped George's shoulder, "Knew you could do it. So where is she?" George reached over to his printer and snatched a paper out, "She's at 296 Kline St. Apartment 3C." 

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

(Makayla's P.O.V.)

When Makayla returned to her apartment, she was numb, not quite sure how to feel. She walked around her apartment until she had herself mostly calmed down. She sat down on the couch and leaned against the back. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. 

She must have fallen asleep because when she opened her eyes it was mid-afternoon the next day. 

She stood, feeling a little disoriented until she remembered what happened. 

She put a hand over her open mouth. He recognized her. Everything was okay until he knew who she was. She shook her head to clear her head. 

Before she could regain her thoughts, there was a knock at the door. She looked at the door like it was her enemy. She didn't want to see anyone. She took a deep breath and went to the door. She opened it, prepared to tell whomever it was to go away but stopped short when she saw who it was. "What are you doing here?"

"Can I please come in?" Makayla stood up a little straighter and sighed. "Sure. Why the fuck not?" She stepped aside and held the door open a little wider to let John in. He came in and looked around, "Nice apartment. Your father pay for it?" 

Makayla snorted, "I guess you could say that." John turned and gave her a confused look. She sighed again, "He died."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"I'm not. What do you want from me John?"

"I just want to talk." She looked at him, amazed. "Talk? You want to talk?" He nodded at her, "I want to know-" She cut in, "Know what? Where I've been, what I've been doing? Why don't you just ask your father, he could give you those answers real well." 

She laughed at the uncomfortable look on his face, "Oh that's right. You aren't speaking to your father. Because you ran off." John sighed. "You know very well why we ran." 

Makayla stared at him incredulously, "Because he hit you every now and then. You don't know shit, John! You want to talk? Fine, let's fucking talk! Let's talk about how I trusted you! How I thought you were different. I thought you meant it when you said you would protect me!"

"I did! I did mean it. And I tried to. I tried to protect you but I couldn't." She made it so they were facing each other and she could feel herself finally letting all of that anger she held in out, "Right! Was that before or after you took off that night? Leaving me with him? I was seven years old! Do you know the damage that a man can do to a little girl? I thought you'd protect me. I thought, even after you left, that you'd still come and save me from him but you didn't! You NEVER did. The only person who ever stood up for me against him was GONE." 

"Stop it! Stop putting me on such a pedestal! Stop making me into something I'm not! I'm human, Makayla. I'm not this hero you seem to think me to be."

"I can't. I can't stop damnit! Ever since I was three years old you were the one to step in and stop him. You were the one who would take care of me and you were the one who kept some kind of control on him!" When she finished that sentence it left the two of them in a stand-off. 

They stared at each other, breathing heavily. Both were silent until John spoke up quietly, "Don't you think I know that? Don't you think I dreamed about what he could do to you now that I wasn't there? I'm sorry, Kay. I am but I had to leave. My father would have ended up killing my mother and me if I hadn't left with her." 

Makayla turned away from him and when she turned back around, she was crying. "So instead my father got to kill me." 

John started to interrupt her but she stopped him, "You don't get it John. Dreaming about what he could do me and actually knowing what he DID to me are two separate things." 

Makayla stopped to compose her thoughts and took a deep breath. She looked away form him and out her living room window, "I hated you. I hated you because you got out. Because you said you'd protect me and you didn't. I know now that you didn't have a choice but back then…. I just thought you lied. I chose to blame you for what was happening to me because I didn't know who else to blame. I didn't know why my father hated me so much." 

John walked over to where Makayla was standing. She looked at him with pain-filled eyes. John touched the side of her face and she flinched, pulling away. "I'm sorry, Kay. I wanted to take you with me. I wish I could have-"

"Then why didn't you? Why didn't you take me with you? Why did you leave me with him?" John sighed exasperatedly. "I couldn't! How would we have traveled with me, my mother, and a seven year old without getting caught?"

"I wish you would have let me die when you had the chance." John winced and remembered the day she was talking about.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

__

John was walking up the DeAngelos' driveway with his mother. He really wished they could have gotten out of this. It was his father's 39th birthday and Anthony DeAngelo had put together a dinner in his honor. 

His mother squeezed his shoulder and whispered in his ear, "Just a few hours, sweetheart, and then we can go home." John nodded at his mother and they both went inside. 

The first thing he seemed to notice was the five year old little girl standing in the doorway of the dining room that he had grown so fond of. Her face lit up at the sight of him and he felt the tension go out of his body. 

She walked over to the two of them, "Good evening, Mrs. O' Doyle. How are you tonight?" John noticed the stiff and formal way she spoke. Almost like it had been rehearsed. 

His mother kneeled in front of Makayla, "Hello, Makayla. I'm doing much better now, thank you." Makayla smiled and grabbed a hold of John's hand, pulling him towards the seat next to hers at the table. 

The dinner was about half way over when Makayla knocked a crystal glass off the table and broke it. She froze and looked fearfully at her father who was watching her. She quietly stood and picked up the broken glass and headed to the kitchen.

Her father rose, wiped the corner of his mouth off with his napkin, and followed, "Excuse me, will you?" John watched him as he left the room and he heard footsteps going upstairs.

He closed his eyes and winced when he heard the first thud. He was amazed she didn't even scream. 

He was amazed that she had already gotten to the point where she didn't have to scream. 

He heard a few more thumps and what sounding like someone falling through glass. John got up and started to head up the stairs but his father stepped in the way, "Leave it be, son."

John looked at his father disgustedly and shook his head. He pushed his father's arm off of him and ran up the stairs. He didn't notice his parents follow him. When he got to Makayla's room, he stepped in to find Makayla down on the floor and her father towering over her. Anthony DeAngelo was about to kick her but John ran in front of him. 

He covered Makayla's tiny body and managed to take her father's blow. He stopped when he saw that John was covering _her. "Get out of the way, boy." _

John shook his head, "No!" John looked down at Makayla and back at DeAngelo, "Leave her alone! Can't you see she's unconscious?" He leaned back over her, "She's barely even breathing!" John's mother ran to the two. 

She leaned down and checked her pulse. She turned back to her husband, "She needs a doctor, Patrick. Her pulse is way too light." Her husband gave DeAngelo a look and reluctantly nodded. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"You don't mean that, Kay."

"Don't tell me what I mean. I know good and well what I mean. And believe me, I would have been better off dead." John reached out to her, "Kay-" She pulled away from him, "Don't."

"Stop, Kay. Stop pulling away from me like I'm going to hurt you!" Makayla gave him a look and quietly stated, "It's impossible for you to hurt me even more than you already have." John flinched at the statement. "Kay-"

"No, John. I'm not saying that to upset you. It's just a simple fact. I thought you were some kind of a personal hero for me. I always thought you'd help me. If my father got interrupted, somehow I'd get the idea that it was you. You were a naïve child's fantasy. But I grew out of it. My father saw to that."

"It couldn't have been that bad." John knew that it probably was but wanted so bad to believe that it wasn't. 

She looked at him, disbelief in her eyes. "You don't know a damn thing!" John tried once again to reach for her, "No! You have no idea how bad it was! You can't really think that a beating here and there was all that happened." 

At the gaze on John's face it was obvious that he did, or at least that's what he wanted to believe. 

She laughed coldly. "I'm going to give you a dose of reality John. I feared for my life everyday. He hit me at least three times a day and I was lucky to get a beating only once a week. But that was just the days, John. You have no fucking idea what he did to me at night. You wonder why I won't let you touch me?" 

John was watching her pace back and forward and it was just beginning to dawn on him what she was saying. His eyes grew wide and he shook his head. "Oh, yes. I can't stand the thought of a man touching me. Do you want to know why that is, Johnny?" 

He cringed at the concept of what she was saying and whispered, "Oh, god, Kay." 

Now it was her turn to flinch, "I don't need your pity, John. No one can change the past. No matter how much I want you to, you can't." John wanted so badly to hold Makayla and take the sorrow out of her voice but she would never let him. She turned her back to him and quietly requested, "Leave."

"Kay-" He tried to reach out, one last time, to her. 

"Go!" She turned back to him, "Please. Please, just…..go." He felt his hand drop and his shoulders slump in a defeated manner. She turned back to face the window and minutes later heard the unmistakable click of the door closing. 

When he left she let herself fall to the floor. She pulled her knees up to her chin and, for the first time, felt truly and utterly alone. 

She blinked back the burning tears, refusing to let herself cry. Refusing to let herself feel the numbing pain in her heart. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~


	5. I Should've

(John's P.O.V.)  
  
John walked into the VCTF in a daze. He knew he'd always deluded himself in believing her life had been good but he had never expected what she had alluded to.   
  
Although it didn't shock him, it was exactly the sort of thing Anthony DeAngelo would do.   
  
He sat in his desk and quietly got to work. When Bailey called them into the Command Center to talk about the girl they had found in the woods John just quietly made his way into the Center and to his seat.  
  
Bailey started the meeting, only half listening to Sam's profile of the man who did this. He was too busy watching John.   
  
The young man was normally a nuisance during these meetings but today he was disturbingly silent.   
  
Bailey was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn't notice the team staring at him, waiting for him to continue. He cleared his throat and continued with the meeting, saying to himself that he would call John into his office after the meeting. He never did have the chance though. As soon as he dismissed them Sam swept John away to her office.  
  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _  
  
  
  
When Sam closed the door behind them John turned to her. "What is this about?"  
  
  
  
"I'm taking it that your meeting with whoever you had George look up didn't go too well." John sighed, "If you can call a total disaster not going "too well", then yeah." Sam sat on the couch and John followed suit, "Wanna talk about it?"   
  
At first John had the severe urge to say no, keep it all bottled up, but he pushed that thought away.   
  
He needed to tell someone. For the first time in his life he needed to talk.   
  
  
  
"Her name is Makayla DeAngelo. Her father and mine were "business partners". Honestly, their business wasn't much on the legal side, like any of my father's was anyway." John looked away and could feel his throat starting to tighten and close up.   
  
He cleared it and forced himself to continue, "I can remember it so clearly, so vividly. I was 12 years old. My mother sent me to the DeAngelos' house for the night because my father was in such a bad mood. Kay was 3 at the time. I was in the guest room when I heard her crying. No, that's not right. She was screaming. And it sounded like no one was helping her. I got up to go see if I could help......when...when I walked into her room...her father was there. He was shaking her and he just kept hitting her against the wall. I was so angry. She was just a baby! It's not like she could defend herself. I threw myself into the middle of it. And believe me I paid for that one. Her father was so angry....but he left her alone. He walked out and she immediately stopped crying. Like she knew I wouldn't hurt her. She stared at me with these huge eyes and her tear-stained face....and I couldn't help it. I fell for her. She came over to me and she crawled into my lap......that was the first but definitely not the last time I protected her from him. She trusted me so much...I was the only "adult" in her life that didn't hurt her. I told her I would keep her safe....that I'd always protect her from him..."   
  
John trailed off and looked in Sam's direction. He couldn't read her face, didn't know what she was thinking. He looked back down at his hands before continuing, "The day after I made that promise....my mom and I left. She went to my room only to find it empty. And it stayed that way. God! She hated me so much! I used to have nightmares about the things her father could do to her now that I wasn't there. Now that she was alone. I still do sometimes."   
  
John stopped and laughed sardonically, correcting himself, "Well not anymore. I know exactly what he did.....And it makes me sick! I wish I'd never left..." Sam stopped him, having to cut in.   
  
She placed her hands over his and squeezed, "If you hadn't left, you'd have been just like your father John. You wouldn't be doing what you're doing now."  
  
"Right. And my mother wouldn't be dead. And Kay wouldn't hate me so much."  
  
"You don't know that, John! You don't know that you could have stopped anything." John yanked his hands away from hers, "Yes! Yes, I do! She would've told me and I would've-"  
  
"What? Killed him? All that would do is wind you up in jail John. Do you think your mother would have wanted that?" John turned back to her, "More than anything in the world." Sam started to say something but he stopped her.  
  
"You don't know Sam. You don't know what he did... He beat her! He hurt her and made her fear for her life. Always wondering if the next would be the last.....most often praying it would be. He hurt her so much, he took away the one thing no one can give back Sam. And I didn't stop him. I wasn't there to protect her." She closed her eyes, knowing what John was saying but trying to figure out a way to tell him it wasn't his fault, "John-"  
  
"No, Sam. Don't, okay? You're gonna say it wasn't my fault, that I couldn't have stopped it." He paused slightly, "Maybe it wasn't my fault..... But I'll never know if I could've stopped it." John walked to her door, "Thank you, Sam, for listening but I need to think. On my own."   
  
She nodded at him slightly and he walked out, slowly closing the door behind him.   
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 


	6. Uneasy Beginnings

1 Week Later  
  
(Makayla's P.O.V.)  
  
  
  
Makayla nervously looked at the building in front of her. She didn't know why she was here. She couldn't believe she was here.   
  
She sighed and walked into the front door. She went to the front desk and the clerk looked at her expectantly, "Can I help you?" Makayla cleared her throat, "Uh..." The clerk rolled her eyes and clearly stated, "Can I help you or not?"  
  
"Umm....yeah. I'd...like...to see an agent?" The clerk gave an exasperated sigh, "You got a particular one? There are quite a few here, ya know?" Makayla closed her eyes and looked down at her feet.   
  
She took a few breaths and looked back up, "John Grant?" The clerk nodded and picked up the phone, "One sec." She spoke into the receiver and then hung up, "He'll be with you shortly. You can wait over there."   
  
The receptionist pointed to a group of chairs that formed a makeshift waiting room. Makayla nodded and then hesitantly made her way over there and sat down.  
  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _  
  
(John's P.O.V.)  
  
  
  
John hung up bewildered. Sam was sitting next to him in Nathan's chair, "Well?" He shook his head. "It seems I have a visitor." He got up and stood there for a second then continued to make his way to the front.   
  
He stepped out into the lobby area and was surprised who stood to meet him. "Makayla." She lowered her head and then looked back up again, "Ummm....is...there somewhere we can....talk?"   
  
He cleared his throat and kind of shook his head, "Yeah. Follow me."   
  
He watched her grab her purse and then he turned and started to walk to one of the interrogation rooms. He couldn't figure out why she was there. He hoped she was okay. He led her into the room and closed the door behind him. He watched her sit down and then he followed suit. "So...."  
  
Makayla took the hint and cleared her throat a little, "Hmm...I..uh...I wanted to talk to you and....this was the only place I knew when to catch you."  
  
John raised his eyebrow a little, "Talk to me?" She nodded. "About what?" He watched her close her eyes and take a deep breath. It seemed like forever by the time she finally let her breath out and started to speak, "I just wanted to say....that I'm sorry." He started to interrupt, to ask what she meant but she cut him off, "For, um, everything. For blaming you. It was stupid. It wasn't your fault. You had your own problems at home. You didn't know what would happen. What could happen. I was just hurting so much and........well that's not an excuse for laying that on you." Makayla's eyes welled up with unshed tears and John wanted so bad to wipe them away for her.   
  
He wanted to hold her, to tell her it was going to be alright. He went to her and cupped her face with his hand. For once, she didn't pull away.   
  
"It's okay. Really. You did what any 7 year old child would do. And I was wrong too." She shook her head and started to speak but he put his finger over her mouth as a way of silencing her. "Yes, I was. When I left all I thought about at the time was me. I didn't think about the fact that I, the only "adult" you trusted, was betraying you. Was taking that trust and practically saying that it meant absolutely nothing when, in fact, it meant the world to me. You reacted to that by hating me and I don't blame you. I was the safe one to hate." With his thumb he began to wipe away the tears that were sliding down her face.   
  
She grasped his wrists with her hands. He leaned down to her and, pressing his forehead to hers, closed his eyes and started to whisper, "I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry. I'm sorry."   
  
Nathan stuck his head in the room to check its occupancy and was startled at he site of the two of them. He left the two of them that way, foreheads pressed together, eyes closed, and tears sliding down their cheeks.   
  
THE END!!!!!!!! 


End file.
